


The Pain of an Echo

by Heartensoul



Series: In A Family Way [1]
Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 6,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24228667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heartensoul/pseuds/Heartensoul
Summary: Because Conrad was young and rather inexperienced in the ways of sensitivity, he blurted out his heritage to his younger brother without a thought of consequence.
Series: In A Family Way [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089155
Kudos: 6





	1. The Pain of An Echo (Conrad, Wolfram / No Pairings)

The Pain of an Echo  
Characters/Pairings: Conrad, Wolfram  
Rating: PG  
Any Warnings: None

Because Conrad was young and rather inexperienced in the ways of sensitivity, he blurted out his heritage to his younger brother without a thought of consequence. Because time had not yet taught him the true ramifications of being what he was—glares from people he didn’t care about were ignored, his older brother’s tantrums dismissed as just part of his personality rather than personally wounding—he had spent the week mourning the loss of his idol, his father, rather than sitting his little brother down and explaining things. Instead of coming to an understanding, the two boys didn’t see each other, and the news, still foreign and frightening to the youngest Mazoku prince, festered into distrust. 

When Conrad was finally feeling up to socializing again, the first person he sought out was Wolfram. The blond was in his room with the curtains drawn, and Conrad wondered if he was ill as he entered the dark, uninviting room.

“Wolfram?” he called, and drew near the little figure sitting in a chair when he did not receive a reply. Although he could not see Wolfram’s face at the angle he was at, but he could see his brother’s little fists clenched into balls.

“Wolfram?” he repeated, softer the second time. He reached his hand out and laid his hand on Wolfram’s shoulder.

“Don’t touch me! You dirty half-breed.” The little blond screeched as he whirled around, his clenched fist connecting with Conrad’s arm. The unsatisfying ‘thump’ that sounded at the impact echoed in the now silent room, the lack of physical damage outdone by the painful emotional wound that would never heal quite right.

Because Conrad was young and inexperienced, he couldn’t recognize the pain in his own eyes was mirrored in the blue, watering orbs in front of him. Caught in his own surprise, he couldn’t be patient, couldn’t be understanding, couldn’t hear the echo of his breaking heart resounding in the smaller body of his brother.

Instead, he ran.


	2. Loneliness (Dan Hiri Weller x Cheri)

Titled: Loneliness  
Characters/Pairings: Dan Hiri Weller, Cheri  
Rating: PG  
Any Warnings: Sort of angsty?  
Theme/Prompt being used: Every paragraph must end in the same word.  
Notes: Written for round 4 of kkm_challenge. I think I may have done a lot of butchering of canon events in this piece. Please let me know if anything really stands out.

\-----  
Separate we come, and separate we go, And this be it known, is all that we know. - Conrad Aiken  
\-----

When Dan Hiri Weller first sets his eyes upon the Maou of Shin Makoku, she is a woman of her youth, with a young child at her knee and a whole country at her feet. She is also a newly-found widow, solemn yet still beautiful in her sadness, her eyes bright and shining, though tearful as she watches the rest of her country mourn for her loss. She stands among her advisors, supported and revered, yet enveloped in her own loneliness.

When he finally meets her face to face some years later, she is woman of a more mature stature, yet with a lively disposition. He watches as she flits from person to person, the eager hostess and the charming leader to each with no matter of rank or regality. Basking in the glow of attention she shines, and it is only through luck that he manages to catch her eye that evening. Through a quick but happy courtship he woos her, far too smitten on both sides to consider the consequences of such a match. With Shinou’s approval of the joining, despite much rancor and complaint from a whole kingdom, he makes the solemn promise to finally put an end to her loneliness.

But the call of his swordsman’s spirit later releases him of that promise, and he leaves with some regret but a strong resolve. He also leaves behind their son in hopes that it lessens the loss, though it only seems to magnify his own. He hears of her re-marriage shortly after he successfully leads the reclaiming a prominent half-blood town, and learns of her husband's death by the time renovations on the town are complete. As time continues to pass, the old lovers meet sporadically with smiles and small talk and aging on his part, careful words kept and cherished between them to ebb their mutual loneliness.

And when Dan Hiri finally waits for Death to show, it is her image that he sees long after his eyes are unable to reopen. Her ageless beauty and the lightness of her laughter echo in his thoughts as his body settles, finally, into rest. A final breath filled with her imagined smell, then the lifting of life and loneliness.


	3. To Protect (Yozak, Conrad / No obvious pairings)

To Protect  
Rated G  
Characters/Pairings: Yozak, Conrad. Possible hints of a couple of pairings, it’s all in how you want to take it.

\-------

When Yozak first met up with Dan Hiri Weller and his son, to say he was apprehensive about the two strangers was an understatement. If he had anything worth stealing it would have been his first guess as to their generosity, but his lack of anything besides the clothes on his back (and he knew the brown-haired boy wouldn’t want his rags) left him puzzled to their true motive. The thought that they were planning on selling or killing him passed through his mind as well, but with the dirt that buried his mother still fresh under his nails, he couldn’t muster up the will to care much about what life would bring him at that point.

What life had ended up bringing him was both the greatest gift and lesson he would receive. From the swordsman he learned to protect not only himself but what was important to him, and Conrad taught him what those things of importance were. Companionship and country and the loyalty to both no matter what, that was what the young prince taught him. He took those lessons and parted with them years after their introduction, remaining at one of the towns Dan Hiri had rebuilt until the death of his fatherly mentor. With his sword against his hip and Dan Hiri’s words ringing in his ears, he followed Gwendal von Voltaire back to the man’s home country to begin his service to Shin Makoku and to renew his bond with the second son of Shin Makoku’s Maou.

That relationship was tested when he made the mistake of trying to defend it. The feeling of satisfaction ran through his veins as his knuckles connected with the cheek of the little blonde prince, the words of malice the boy had been spewing about his older brother turning into the hysterical cries of someone’s first introduction to physical pain. The blonde learned his lesson and never spoke poorly of Conrad in his presence ever again, but Yozak learned the harder lesson: Conrad didn’t speak to him for months.

That was his first encounter with the complexities of Conrad’s heart, though certainly not the last. That he might not be as important to Conrad as Conrad was to him was the hardest lesson to swallow, but it repeated enough in their history that he learned to accept it. Because Yozak had decided to protect Conrad no matter what, he made sure to do so even when he had to save Conrad from himself. He made good on that promise over the years, whether it was by standing beside him in battle or simply bringing him home in one piece.

\-----

In the present time, Yozak keeps a close eye on the Maou. His dedication has not changed, though he has come to hold a certain fondness for Yuuri that he lacked for Wolfram or Julia. Protecting the boy is the same as protecting Conrad--protecting what has become Conrad’s happiness, whether or not it parallels his own happiness.


	4. Promises I Couldn't Keep (Conrad, Yuuri / No Pairings)

Promises I Couldn't Keep

Characters: Conrad, Yuuri

Warnings: None

Yuuri was here, finally, and the next task was to introduce the king to his castle and court. It would, in many ways, be more difficult than finding him had been, or explaining that he was a demon king.

As the castle came into view, Conrad could feel his new king grip his waist a little tighter in anticipation. Gunter had just suggested that Yuuri should enter the castle gate on his own horse to make a good impression, and that somehow seemed to be the statement that triggered Yuuri’s nerves.

_‘Wake up now, wake up!’_ He swore he could almost hear the boy’s thoughts in his own head, the fingers clutching to his uniform jacket serving as some sort of connection between them.

“There’s nothing to fear, Heika.” He assured, glancing back at the black hair leaning close. Black, uncertain eyes looked up at him, and his mouth parted in surprise when he recognized the same look Yuuri had given him last night.

_“Have we met before?”_

“You’ll be close by?” He asked this time, and Conrad was grateful that it was a question he could answer truthfully.

“I’ll be beside you the whole time,” he promised.

“Okay.”

Perhaps it was only imagined, but Conrad liked to believe that tight grip relaxed then, just a bit.


	5. Hero Worship (Yuuri, Alford / Very tame Yuuri+Alford)

Hero Worship  
Characters: Yuuri, Alford, brief bit of Conrad  
Notes: The briefest of kisses.

\--------------  
The high noon sun was beating down on the training grounds in what felt like a relentless fashion, and the young boy king of Shin Makoku and his maken moaned in unison at the heat. It was much too hot to train that day.

Of course, neither king nor sword were in an active stance: They were sitting miserably but safely on the sidelines watching Conrad and Alford spar.

“I bet his sword is what makes it so easy,” Yuuri muttered in envy, just loud enough for Morgif to hear and moan in protest. Alford seemed a natural at swinging his sword in a skilled and graceful manner. He wasn’t as polished as Conrad—no one was—but as Yuuri’s retainer gave suggestions for improvement to the younger swordsman, Alford quickly and easily made the adjustments necessary. He was a much better student than Yuuri, for what little he seemed to need to learn in comparison.

But Yuuri was sure the cool Holy Sword helped with that, too.

Their swords clashed once again, the sound of the friendly metal as it met filling Yuuri’s ears as he watched the two men draw together in combat. Conrad said something that Yuuri was out of earshot for, but Alford nodded and they separated to replace their swords back into the sheaths.

“Your Majesty, we’re going to take a break for some lunch,” Conrad called out as the two men walked toward him to retrieve the rest of their belongings. As they drew closer, Yuuri could make out the thin sheen of sweat on their tanned skin and silently bemoaned their ability to make sweat look attractive; when he was sweating all he did was look as though he hadn’t bathed that day.

“You two look so cool out there,” he smiled, handing Alford the towel he had been fingering in his hands while watching them spar.

“Thank you, but I have a long way to go,” the journeyman deflected modestly, taking the towel.

“Then I don’t want to consider how far I have. I know that even if I practiced my whole life I won’t ever be as great as Conrad is.” Morgif hummed in agreement and the young pair grinned at Conrad. Conrad continued to wipe at the back of his neck with his own towel, somehow the person who had perspired the least despite being the one that had been moving around the longest. He threw the towel on his shoulder when he was done and bent to pick up his uniform jacket.

“Beyond the basics and good practice, skill with a sword is learned on the battlefield. That being the reality, I should hope that His Majesty does not become even half as capable with his weapon.”

Yuuri nodded and grabbed Morgif, leading the way inside for much needed food and drink.

\-----------

The rest of Yuuri’s afternoon was filled with paperwork and classes, so he had asked Conrad to be attentive to Alford until he could steal away some time to spend with him later in the day. While not a dignitary or royalty, Alford was still a visitor of Blood Pledge to be attended to by the Maou, but his lackadaisical approach allowed Yuuri to spend most of his day going about his duties without much fuss. (Not that this pleased him, but it meant that he wouldn’t have to spend twice the amount of time doing all that boring stuff tomorrow, so better to keep up with it.) 

As evening fell and dinner passed, Wolfram had whined and shouted but eventually agreed to be the one to put Greta to bed that night so Yuuri could spend more time with their human guest. He found Alford in the room he had been assigned for his stay, the young traveler writing what seemed to be a letter.

“It’s to my father,” Alford explained as the Maou peered over to look at the paper. He couldn’t read the human language. “I try to keep him up to date on my travels when I get the chance.”

“He must be so proud of you,” Yuuri gushed. “Going around and saving people must be hard work.” ‘Maybe even harder than staying awake through one of Gunter’s lectures,’ he thought to himself.

“It can be a little hard at times, but everyone has aspects of their job that are difficult.”

Yuuri felt the hero was being much too modest. “But you go around saving people,” he insisted. “The hardest thing that I do is pace myself so I don’t get a cramp in my hand while signing documents. Oh, and I try to keep myself out of trouble so the others don’t have more work to do. I seem to have a knack for finding trouble though. Like just recently…”

And the Maou of Shin Makoku prattled on in that fashion for quite some time, so when Alford’s lips gently met his, Yuuri thought it was probably just to get him to shut up. Not that he was complaining. Regardless of the reason, the softness and assuredness of Alford’s claim was one thing the king found he could not pinpoint on the qualities of the man’s holy sword.


	6. The Grief in a Shared Ghost (Yuuri, Yozak / No clear pairings)

Title: The Grief in a Shared Ghost  
Characters: Yuuri, Yozak  
Story Notes: Takes place during the trip to Dai Shimaron in episode 33.  
Warnings: Mentions major character death

\--------------

Yuuri’s arm had begun to ache quite some time ago, but he continued to lightly rub circles on Wolfram’s clothed back until he heard the blonde’s gentle snores. Wolfram hadn’t protested the offer at any point, which made Yuuri believe he must have felt very unwell; it must have been tough getting seasick while being forced to travel by boat constantly.

Although he knew the hour was late, the young Maou didn’t feel a sliver of drowsiness. Rather than lie in the darkness of the room, he slipped out of bed and opened the door carefully, mindful not to disturb his finally sleeping fiancé. The cool night air chilled his body and he cursed his stupidity for not grabbing something to put over his thin clothes, or at least something to cover his feet. He knew he was not going to chance returning to the room to retrieve those items, so he settled for wrapping his arms around himself and hoped he wouldn’t be sick for the tournament tomorrow.

The deck of the ship was silent and bare, further testimony that it was well into the night. A keeper passed him as he made his way to the front of the ship, but they made no motion to acknowledge each other. At the far end of the deck he saw a silhouette leaning against the rail, and he ventured closer for curiosity’s sake. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, the familiarity of the stature and bright orange hair caught in the bit of moonlight put Yuuri at ease. Quietly, he carried his body over to where Yozak stood and mimicked his companion’s stance of leaning against the rail and staring into the darkness of the ocean.

The ticking time felt painfully long, and although Yuuri didn’t mind silence, he had come out to escape from the solitude of his thoughts. When one wasn’t plotting how to win the following day, it was easy to allow all the unwanted thoughts to creep in. Like absences. Like arms. The severity of Yozak’s profile somehow reflected these thoughts that Yuuri so desperately wished to keep away. He spoke up, to save them both from thinking too much.

“I’m glad you’re with us, Yozak,” he said. “I think we have a good chance of winning now.” He cringed at the loudness of his voice against the gentle beating of the waves at the ship’s side. 

He reached out and touched Yozak’s arm in a show of comfort, but flinched away quickly as his memories were evoked. Yozak turned to him then, his blue eyes dulled in the darkness and despair of the night. It is then that Yuuri knew he could not save either of them. The thing—no, the person—that linked them stood in the air between them, a ghost not to be denied. Yuuri allowed his arm to fall; The warmth of his initial gesture rang hollow as his hand smacked lightly against the rail. 

They stared in a shared silence into the ocean’s dark waters, as vast and deep as the denial they both swam in.


	7. With That Infuriating Smile (Shouri, Conrad / Implied Shouri x Conrad, rated PG13)

With That Infuriating Smile  
Characters/Pairings: Conrad, Shouri, Sort of implied Conrad/Shouri  
Rating: PG13 Warnings: Masturbation  
Notes: I can't believe I wrote this.

\-------

While the Mazoku from another world invaded his home, Shibuya Shouri sat within the safety of his room, bristling over the nerve of the men intruding. How dare they make his mother prepare all those extra helpings of food! The nerve of them sitting in all his father’s favorite places to relax in the evenings! And what right did that idiot have stealing his clothes?!

It was really more than he could stand, and he could feel the anger rising with every thought that passed through his mind. He tapped the responses to his game automatically, his mind too preoccupied with his frustration to care much. Poor, automated Suki-chan’s heartfelt responses were all but wasted on him that night, though somehow still managed to be effective enough to shrink the space in his pants with painful familiarity. It was a new game, that must be it, and even the annoyance of the unwelcomed guest—guests—couldn’t ruin the newness of the simulated situation.

“You’ve been locked in here for awhile. Is that really so interesting?”

Shouri hastily clicked off the game, but it was too late: It seemed Yuuri’s “guardian” was determined to ruin even this for him. He turned his head to look, not willing to display his aroused state, and glared at the brown-haired swordsman.

“No one invited you,” Shouri whispered harshly, mindful of the late hour even in his anger. He was stating the obvious, but Conrad managed to look innocent as he smiled on the wrong side of the door, the lock now returned to the state it had been in before the older man had picked it.

“You’ve been in here all day,” Conrad replied, as though it explained or excused the intrusion. He stepped forward, and Shouri’s glowering expression became heated in a different way as Conrad came within range of being able to see the tell-tale bulge in his lap.

“Wh—what do you want?!”

“I came to see what you were doing.” Conrad’s smile was calm as he leaned against the desk chair and gazed at the computer screen. “And you never answered my question. Is it very interesting?”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Well, it seems it is,” Conrad reasoned, causing Shouri to flush again at what he thought the other man was alluding to until he added, “you’ve been here since after dinner tapping away at it.”

“Get out,” the double black finally growled, embarrassed and angry and frustrated.

“All right,” Conrad relented, his hands raised in a show of surrender. “Have a good night, Shouri.”

With an infuriating smile, Conrad softly closed the door and returned to his room next door. Shouri locked the door once he left and pushed his chair against it for good measure, cursing the man all the way to the computer to turn off the screen. He flung his clothes away and kneeled on his bed, the thoughts of Suki-chan long gone. Then he hissed Conrad’s name as though it were the most vile curse each time he violently pumped himself to release, knowing that infuriating man was on the other side of the wall, no doubt listening and smiling in satisfaction as though he had command of every stroke.


	8. Empathy (Conrad, Aldebert / No clear pairings)

Empathy  
Characters/Pairings: Conrad, Aldebert  
Any Warnings: Spoilers for episodes 85-87

The night was warm and still. It was one where, had they been in Shin Makoku, Yuuri would have asked if they could gather some of the staff together for a game. The thought would normally make Conrad warm with happiness, but on that night it only made the dread stirring in his stomach intensify. They weren’t in Shin Makoku; they were in Dai Shimaron, and Yuuri was the newly appointed king’s prisoner.

Conrad was staring out the window, drowning in those thoughts when Aldebert entered the room. The soldier ignored the presence of the other man even though there was no reason for Aldelbert to be in the chambers he alone had been assigned for that night.

“You’ll be going in those?” The blond man asked, and Conrad turned to see he was referring to the Dai Shimaron uniform that was sitting on Conrad’s untouched bed.

“Yes. His Highness seems to think the plan he has will work.”

“You’ve always been too accepting of the plans others have for you,” was the criticism freely given, but it was quickly followed up with words far more sympathetic. “The kid has a lot of luck on his side. He wouldn’t want you to worry.”

“It’s my job to worry.”

“That’s not why you’re doing it.”

Aldebert left the room after only dismissive silence from Conrad, his uncharacteristic show of empathy retreating with him and leaving the other man to his thoughts. If Conrad cared enough, he would have noted that it was the first time they had been alone in each other’s presence and Aldebert hadn’t been looking for a fight. If there hadn’t been so much inner turmoil, he would have realized the change that had occurred.

Julia’s role in their lives, peaceful as she had been, had made them adversaries; now it was Yuuri’s that made them allies.


	9. A Means of Comfort (Conrad, Wolfram / No pairings)

Title: A Means of Comfort  
Pairings/Characters: Conrad, Wolfram  
Rating: PG  
Summary: The give and take of brotherly comfort over the span of Wolfram’s life (up to season 2.)

\--------

A young Conrad hides patiently around the corner until he hears his mother close the door just down the hall and set off to settle in for the night. It is rather late, so he knows there is no chance of being caught after she leaves. Regardless, he is slow and quiet as he makes his way to the room, ready to make a temporary escape if necessary. He knows he is not allowed to be there, and yet he knows he must.

As he opens the door, he sees a small blonde head peeking out from under the covers even in the darkness of the room. The breathing is a bit more labored than usual, with a slight wheeze and sniffling following every other inhale. 

“Wolfram, are you awake?” he whispers aa he nears the bed. He sits on the edge, lightly fingering blonde strands of hair until they fall away. He knows he shouldn’t be here, because he can’t get sick for tomorrow’s journey, but the blurry-eyed smile he receives lets him know the right choice was made.

“I thought you couldn’t come visit me?”

“Well, here I am,” Conrad grins triumphantly. “How are you feeling?”

“It hurts,” the little blonde pouts, pointing to his forehead. Conrad frowns; between the fever that will not let up and the congestion, he doesn't find it surprising that the boy’s head hurts, but it doesn’t make him worry any less. He wishes, not for the first time, that he had some magic ability that could make things better. Instead, he can only settle for offering small relief through consolation.

He brushes Wolfram’s bangs away, framing the little face with his larger hands, and sets a kiss upon the boy’s brow. Wolfram stares at him in bewilderment for a few moments, and then is kind enough to inform him that it didn’t do anything.

Conrad stifles a laugh behind his hand while Wolfram continues to look confused. “It isn’t supposed to take the pain away, Wolfram. It’s a way to comfort someone. You’re telling the person, ‘I know you’re in pain, and I’m sorry,’” he explains as he stretches his legs out onto the bed. The day is beginning to catch up with him, and he is beginning to dread the long trip the following morning. Wolfram follows his example, scooting closer to his older brother to bury his head against his arm.

“You have to promise to always come comfort me when I feel sick,” the young boy requests, already well on his way to the world of dreams.

It's not a promise that can be kept, but Conrad hopes to fulfill it as best he can.

The following morning, the Maou finds them, and is very cross at now having two very sick sons to look after.

\------------

When Wolfram learns of Conrad’s return from the battlefield and the circumstances of his older brother's current state, he shuts himself up in his room, determined not to hear anymore of it. He busies himself with his studies--the last Suzanna Julia Von Wincott had left for him--and has his meals brought to him, determined not to think anymore of it.

But as dusk begins to settle on the land, the rising urge to see him (just to make sure he is really alive, that’s all) will not be pacified. And so Wolfram makes his way to Conrad’s chambers, sure he is not seen, and enters without knocking…enters without any idea of what he is going to say once on the other side of the threshold.

What he finds makes all thought of words or excuses fly: His brother, now a hero of Shin Makoku, is as defeated a man as there ever was. He is leaning back against the headboard, his body dressed in bandages and his face dressed in sorrowful vacancy. Wolfram tries to recall a time that he can even compare to this, but in his eyes Conrad had always been strong, and able, no matter what had been thrown at him.

Always so strong.

“Conrad,” he manages to choke out, forgetting all the self-set formalities as he nears the bed with careful steps. The other remains silent, and Wolfram stands by the bed for quite a long time, unsure of what he needs to do. He feels young again, clumsy and unsure; he has always been the one to be comforted and never the one to give comfort.

He sits down on the bed as a fond memory passes through his mind, and still Conrad does not stir. Desperate for some glimpse of his brother in the shell sitting before him, he shifts his body to face the soldier. Slowly, carefully, he frames Conrad’s face with his hands and kisses his forehead.

He is rewarded when Conrad leans forward, his forehead being supported by his younger brother’s. The blonde strands of Wolfram’s crown protest under the slight pull from Conrad’s presence, but Wolfram does not pull away.

“I’m so tired, Wolfram,” Conrad states, simply, wearily. He closes his eyes but remains where he is, letting his intruder know he does not mind the company.

Wolfram is still, conflicted on what to say. He wants to remind his brother he is a hero to the people of Shin Makoku. He wants to tell him that Julia wouldn’t want him to be upset or give up. He wants to assure him that there is hope, even now. But most of all he wants to say he’s sorry, for every stupid word ever uttered from his mouth, for all his short-comings and biases that are pointless anyway, and for not being even half as strong as Conrad is, though he wishes he were.

And because he lacks that strength, he avoids saying any of it.

“Then rest for awhile,” he murmurs into the quiet of the room. They remain that way, their breathing the only break in silence, for a quarter of the night.

It was their means of comfort; nothing more, nothing less.

\--------

He doesn’t want to move.

If he shifts, he will be able to feel the difference in weight on the mattress, and be reminded that Yuuri is not here. If he moves, even just a bit, the numbness in his hand will dissipate and he will feel Conrad’s cufflink resting in his palm. He doesn’t want to move, even breathe, because even that reminds him--reminds him that now he is alone, even in breathing.

He keeps reminding himself that there is hope in finding Yuuri. He refuses to acknowledge that this thought does little to relieve him of his anguish, even though it provides a purpose to keep going. Even if by some chance Yuuri is alive, it will not undo the pain, or relieve the loss. Nothing, not even Yuuri, can make that arm--which had once ruffled his hair, held him close, and even wiped his tears--disappear from where it lifelessly sits in Gwendal’s office. 

He closes off his mournful musings as his mind begins to process the definitive. All he can do now is shut down; there is no one to comfort him anymore.


	10. Winter (Murata / Light Murata/Yuuri)

Winter  
Rated: G   
Characters: Murata; some Murata/Yuuri  
Note: A strange little piece I wrote awhile back.

_Earth Moments_

1\. The first winter he remembers of this lifetime is when he builds himself an igloo in the backyard and sits in it for far too long—until his whole body is numb, until he becomes too sleepy to move. 

2\. The first memory of a past life that he recalls is merely a flash of long black hair that he knows to have been his own fanned out against a mound of snow that serves as a temporary hiding for his escape. He spends the later winters of his childhood cooped inside the warm area of Jose Rodriguez’ office, where he stares out the windows and pretends each little memory of a past life is a snowflake: unique and burdensome, and something that he hopes will eventually wash away.

3\. The cold seasons of his teenage years merge together as a long line of unpleasant memories: winter filled with snowballs in his face, ice down his back and the cold chill of loneliness with the early setting of an uncaring and inattentive sun.

4\. One day the sun arrives in the strangest of circumstances: decked in black from head to toe, it enters the classroom, smiles and calls itself “Shibuya,” warming the chill of the cold February morning.

\---------  
 _Mozaku Moments_

1\. Murata Ken never thought he would find a person to entrust with the importance of his mission, but he ends up finding an accomplice in the strangest of places: in the freezing lands of Shou Shimaron while held captive in a cave with a man who likes to wear sheep on his head.

2\. The bitter winter of Dai Shimaron nipping at his skin reminds him how he hates the winter, but even that doesn’t make him feel as retched as the look of sorrow permanently etched on Shibuya’s face and the knowledge that he is not important enough to be neither the cause or the source to take that look away.

3\. He tells himself that is the bitter cold that keeps him from accompanying the small group to Mount Makadira: It has nothing to do with his inability trust some of the others, or his fear that Shibuya, who trusts all, might not feel justified to trust in him.

4\. There are some things Murata comes to appreciate about the winter: the way the cold in the temple halls keeps the shine maidens from traveling to his room to ask a favor after a certain hour, how the chill in the air forces an otherwise menial-dressed Yozak to encase himself in the light blue tunic that brings out his eyes, and how Yuuri and Wolfram always rely on their matching set of bear hats to keep their ears covered from the cold.

5\. But Murata only really begins to appreciate winter the day Shibuya is babbling something nonsensical up to the second that their lips meet, and then the soft snow meets them to soften their tumble to the ground.


	11. Bystander (Conrad / Conrad + Yuuri, implied Wolfram/Yuuri)

Bystander  
Rating: G  
Pairings: Mention of Conrad + Yuuri, implied Wolfram/Yuuri.  
Notes: Written for an anti-OTP challenge. I wanted to challenge myself.

\---

Conrad watches from the side in quiet contemplation while Yuuri and Wolfram argue over the new dresses they are having made for Greta. Yuuri is fighting for a basic style, while Wolfram is being very insistent on a set that consists of an intricate pattern of bows and lace. The battle has not been going on long, but it will conclude shortly: Yuuri will give in as usual, in a fashion that Conrad has witnessed far too many times when in the company of Shibuya Souma and his wife. Yuuri does not have the losing grace of his father just yet, but he has plenty of time to learn. And learn he will, because although Yuuri may not know it yet, Wolfram has won in ways more meaningful than an argument over dresses; time may prove long, but one day Yuuri will realize that Wolfram has won him over and all of Wolfram’s hard work will pay off. Wolfram loves the king, and there is nothing that is going to come between them. 

Especially not someone like Conrad.

Conrad has never held the hope of being anything more than a bystander in Yuuri’s life. Already he has exceeded his own expectations, eternally amazed by the love that Yuuri has granted him. His time with the young king playing baseball, taking morning runs, and teaching him are among the soldier’s most precious memories and his heart warms at knowing Yuuri cherishes those times as well.

But a part of Conrad knows he must enjoy this, because they are fleeting moments. With age, Yuuri’s obsession with baseball will wane, replaced by responsibilities and other things of interest. One day Yuuri will be capable of wielding a sword without being instructed, and will learn to lead without being advised. At that time, a time that is creeping closer, Conrad will have to return to the sidelines and once again become just another soldier protecting his king. It is where he belongs--where he has always belonged.

This moment is merely an exercise, preparation for the day when Yuuri’s world will shift and Conrad will finally fall out of focus. So Conrad watches, and waits for the inevitable.


	12. The Final Time (Adelbert/Julia)

The Final Time  
Pairing: Adelbert/Julia

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The last time he sees her, she is sitting among the garden tending to the flowers. She seems occupied, and at that time he believes the war weighs heavily upon her mind. For years following, he berates himself for not asking.

She stands to greet him as he enters the yard, prepared to leave for his own battle in a short time. It is an exchange that has played out many times before, one they had grown accustomed; yet that day, something different stirs in the air.

Julia’s hand trembles a bit when she places it on Adelbert’s cheek.

“You’ll be all right, won’t you?” 

Aldelbert never pretends he understands Julia: they are as different as fire and water. Yet this never stops him from making assumptions, silly guesses as to what she means. He does this now, believing she is worried about his upcoming battle. 

“Of course,” he promises. Depending on one’s point of view, it is a promise both kept and unkept. The physical battle is won that day; it is the emotional battle that wages in Adelbert eternally.

She smiles a little sadly then, and her hand retreats. 

“Yes, you’ll be all right, eventually. I know you will.” Before he can question her cryptic words, she steps away, out of reach. “I have to go. I told Sir Weller I would see him off.”

And as easy as that, he allows her to walk away, believing it to be just like any other time.

Their time cut short is simply one more thing that stirs his hatred of Conrad, dwelling for years to come.


End file.
